Mistress asked me to write this for Her web site. Now, i couldn’t be happier to contribute something like this to Her ‘temple’ online, in a sense to let new would-be slaves get an idea of where Mistress Marquesa can really take a slave, and maybe also to broadcast what a good boy i’ve been to everyone else. But i’ve never been much of an exhibitionist, or one to write on something like this for ready access to millions of computers worldwide. Then again, i’ve never before been one to take part in the kind of thing i’m going to write about…
i first met Mistress Marquesa about three months ago (January 1999). i’m a once and future LA native, now residing in Phoenix. i came back to town for a week and decided to make a top priority of indulging my submissive fantasies for the first time. The LA Weekly and LA Express led me to the Web and eventually to Mistress’ very well done web site that you all are perusing now. It wasn’t about 15 minutes of reading and looking at what Her Highness had to offer, judging by what was on Her site, that i decided that She definitely looked like the real McCoy, the dominant female i dreamed would take me down to the place of slavery i fantasized about. After some call bouncing that Monday, including me calling Her voice mail and message lines just to hear Her luscious voice again, She called me and we set our first meeting in a session that following day.
i saw Her twice that week i was in town, quickly starting my introduction to being Her slave. Those two sessions were the most powerful, intensely erotic experiences i had ever had. Forgoing the descriptions of that experience to focus on what i’m supposed to be writing about, it was near the end of our second session, that Saturday, that She first mentioned getting a piercing. The piercing She said that She most liked to see on Her slaves was a Prince Albert.
For those of you who don’t know, a Prince Albert is a piercing through the head of the penis. That is to say, the piercing runs from a hole below and behind the head of the penis and out the ureter (the piss-hole, for you less urologically astute types), where a hoop goes. Kind of like the ring through the septum in a nose pierce.
i already knew what a Prince Albert was. i’d never been much for piercing. i had my left ear done at fifteen, had considered getting my tongue done (the perfect bona-fide of a little Westside skater punk like me) and maybe my nose. However, the concept of getting a Prince Albert, or for that matter, any other piercing below the waist, would have elicited a solid “Hells nah!” from me before. Like most guys are, i’d imagine , i’m pretty fiercely protective of my manhood, and the idea of having a sharp piece of steel impaled through the head of my cock was definitely outside, in the extreme.
Of course, the fact that it was something that i would ‘never’ do was just fine for Mistress Marquesa and Her ways. Technically, She didn’t really ever command me to get pierced. i don’t think She really would have if it was beyond any sort of boundary for me. i would have thought that it was at that before. But the thing about being with Her, the real power that She ultimately has and exercises over Her boy-toys, is that pleasing Her and making Her happy is extremely rewarding in and of itself. Whippings and spankings early on demonstrated a bit of this, that taking a wee bit of pain was definitely worth the rush and the pleasure that came from making Her happy (then there’s Her nasty little black clothespins, but i won’t go into that now…). At that time, tired from the session, my response was a safely noncommittal “i’ll give it some thought…” Of course i gave it quite a bit of thought later… It wasn’t but a day or two after that i said that i’d seriously consider doing it the next time we met. Shitfire.
After i headed back home to Phoenix, about a month later, i bought Her hypnosis audio tape, the one She gives first to new slaves, “Hypnotic Surrender.” That was a trip in and of itself. Great stuff, She really plays your mind with that one, and leaves room open for much more fun and games. After listening to that a bit, it became very clear, what i had said before about pleasing Her. My purpose, my aspiration, had to be to please Her, that was my place as Her slave. And if Her pleasure came at my sufferance, so much the better! That only validated my place as Her slave further.
This may be just an aftereffect of how She’s broken in my brain a bit, but it seemed, and it still does seem, like i had a choice in the matter. Like i said, She never really commanded me to get pierced, and i don’t think that it would have been Her way to do so. She just suggested it and left me to sit with it. Of course there was the knowledge that it would please Her, and with that piece of information and one other, it became a made decision. i have always been a thinking man, my brain is always in hyperdrive and needs to wrap around and rationalize everything. So too in this case. Getting a ring through my cock would make Her happy, i had to make Her happy so i could be happy, and so it was.
The other concern that i had was safety. Having a piece of metal punch a hole through any part of your body has inherent risks, nerve damage, infection, allergic response, uncontrolled bleeding, etc. This was one reason that i haven’t gotten a tongue pierce. My Mistress was kind enough to inform me that the P.A., much to my welcome surprise, was one of the safer pierces, tongue and other oral or nasal pierces were the really dangerous ones. After checking up a bit on piercing safety and care, i shit my pants and jumped right in. Mistress gave me, so it seemed, another chance to reconsider over the phone, saying that if it was too much for me, She would understand. At that point, though, the Rubicon, the point of no return, had been crossed. i was good to go, “hells yes, i’ll get my cock jammed with a steel spike like a cocktail weenie!” Like Not-So-Wiley Coyote says elsewhere on this site, “Second Floor, Going Down”
My next sojourn to Lost Angeles was on March 4, my birthday. i had set a session with Her Majesty that morning, going to Her place right from the airport. Three months of anticipation worked themselves out a bit there, but that was only a prelude for what was to come. i was going to see Her again the next day, and then we’d go down to Venice Beach, to Buzzbomb, and get the piercing done.
The session the next day with Mistress was the best yet. A bit of everything fun, lot’s of pain, lot’s of pleasure, the real actualization of what i’d been waiting three months in Arizona for. i always relish the feelings i get on my ass and nips after She tortures them. Whenever i move, it reminds me of Her. Afterwards, She took a bit of time getting ready to go. i took a bit of time recovering and looking at Her pictures and Her stylin’ collection of fridge magnets. Then we set out for Venice Beach and Buzzbomb to get the piercing done.
Earlier She had expressed some concern, the day before, about me being good to go, and whether i would chicken out. That elicited a half-smile from me. My mind was well made up, i wasn’t going to chicken out, Hell or high water. i never back down.
Down to Venice. After a couple slices of pizza, commenting on the various ‘local wildlife’ on the Beach that Friday, and heading in a wrong turn, we found Buzzbomb. It was a weird kind of homecoming for me. Venice Beach was a spot where i used to hang out with a lot of other stoners and get laced and spend the day or party nights at two-six, at the end of Ocean Park. It was, literally, the first time i’d been there in over a year. Mistress Marquesa looked quite a bit different, as opposed to Her black leather and lace and the dim light of the guest room where She ‘entertains guests’. Instead, she wore sweats and was out in the sun. She looked great either way. Her hair was a bit tousled and Her eyes, when She took off Her sunglasses, were a lovely, bright shade of green, sparkling in the Pacific sun.
Buzzbomb is like a lot of other spots on the Boardwalk, a combination tattoo parlor, piercing studio and head shop. The name sounded familiar and, after looking at some of the art and talking with Melanie, who did my pierce, i remembered someone i knew who used to work there and got some work done there.
After a bit of browsing tattoos and jewelry, we were all set for the piercing. Melanie was the professional doing the job. She was in her late twenties or early thirties maybe, had a load of pierces (that i could see) in her face, even some of those solid, metal tubes inside her earlobes. She had a nice, agreeable demeanor, which, i suppose, helped considering the business of the day. We looked at the jewelry available and settled on a 316L surgical-grade stainless steel, 10 gauge hoop with a hematite (black glossy metal) bead. Yes that’s right, 10 gauge, a bit bigger than an eighth of an inch. Pretty big, considering. i played around with the bead and ring a bit, being shown how to remove and replace the bead. Last thing i would want is trouble down below…
After going to the bathroom in the back and cleaning up, (and checking my head, i hate waiting to facing something like this, anticipation is always the worst) i came out and was ready. Mistress and Melanie took me to a booth near the front counter with a padded leather adjustable chair, almost like a dentist chair, and a curtain in front. This was it, game time. i’ve done some pretty crazy things and taken some very serious pain before, but still, it was never the experience this was. No turning back now though.
i sat down on the chair, Melanie pulled the curtain and told me to lower my pants and drawers. As stupid as it sounds, my first, unspoken, reaction was ‘do i hafta?’ My head was definitely outta sync, i was about to get my dick pierced and i was trying to avoid taking my pants down.
Melanie left and came back. Mistress Marquesa was there, to my left, looking down at Her little slave on the chair. Having Her there was really the big part of the whole thing, the only thing that really made it bearable. She really has the deepest green eyes, and i could tell she was definitely looking forward to this. That was the best part of this whole episode, Her looking down at me, Her eyes bright, with an expectant, eager look, and all of lit by the glowing light of the beach. i am a sensation junkie, and the fullness of that image stands with me.
i asked Melanie if there were any stirrups. She said yes, but i wouldn’t need any. From the look of them, they probably would have been more trouble than they were worth. Mistress asked if i thought i should be hypnotized, She mentioned hypnosis as being useful for dealing with pain. It seemed more of flight of fancy than anything. Something in the experience probably would have been lost if i was under. Being a recovering drunk and drug addict, i couldn’t have done this drunk or have taken anything for the pain, but that was probably just as well. Mistress said that nipples supposedly hurt worse anyway, something Melanie confirmed. i would have maybe been happy with a bullet, or better yet, a ball gag to bite down on, but both were unnecessary and i was better off breathing continually and deeply. Besides, even though i’m often as quiet as a ghost, hearing oneself scream in pain can be a good and necessary thing.
It was a strange experience to be sure, rather erotic really. i was there, with my pants down and my cock exposed with two females present, not a new experience, and (from my experience) generally portentous of something good about to happen :), except now i was the one on my back, about to get something shoved in me.
Melanie did some prep, cleaning the area with iodine. A sharp one (no pun intended), she went over the job with Mistress, knowing exactly whose property she was really handling and who to talk to, as to how the piercing would go. At this point, if not before, Melanie would have had to have been blind and daft (i hoped dearly that she was neither) as to what the relationship was between Marquesa and i. Seeing my recently shaved privates would have told her something. It was, of course, no cause for concern. She’d very likely seen this kind of thing before, and if she had a problem, she or anyone else, they could go to hell. i decided not to watch, it’s always better not to watch, the less you know the better.
After the prep, she got on with it. As i said, i didn’t watch, but from what i heard and felt, i surmised that first, she put a tube or catheter of some kind inside my ureter to guide the needle through where it would go. Mistress spoke a bit about catheterization, about how it really got some guys off in Her experience, and others not, and that i was probably one of the ‘nots’. It didn’t feel good at all, it hurt sharply, i asked if that was it. Melanie said no, and then said, “Well, maybe I should have said yeah.”
She did some more work down there. Previously Mistress had said that someone asked Her whether She planned to watch my eyes or my cock while this was going on. She said She didn’t know and that She wished She could watch both. Ultimately, game time here, She decided to watch my cock.
Finally, Melanie said that i was going to feel a sting. She was understating that to be sure. i think she warned me so that i wouldn’t thrash or kick in surprise and mess up her work or give her a taste of my Nikes unexpectedly. It didn’t much help me though.
There are a couple of different flavors to pain. i break them down into two, or at least i usually do. There is the kind of pain that one feels often, in response to minor injury, or movement, or sensitivity in various areas, or pressure, or Mistress’ little toys. This is bearable pain, pain that gives itself without serious injury or consequence, pain that let’s you know that you’re still alive. Feedback pain. Good pain, in other words. Then there is the more serious kind of pain that fulfills what neurobiologists say evolution provided pain for, to warn of injury or damage and prevent further injury or damage. Pain in response to trauma. Pain that lets you know something seriously wrong has happened. The kind of pain that results from broken bones, dislocated joints, muscle strains, blunt force trauma, severe burns and the like. The kind of pain that portends going into shock to deal with it. A pain that i have had all too much experience with. Bad pain, so to speak. Trauma response pain, i call it.
What i felt next in my dick, inside my dick in a sense, seemed like both and neither. It hurt, a lot. It hurt like a holy sonofabitch, and it had memory, it lasted. Essentially, this is where the needle went through the meat of my cock, it could be nothing else and it felt like nothing else. The only thing i can compare it to, and it’s kind of a tepid comparison, is somehow getting a wasp sting inside the shaft of my dick. i gasped and clenched. It kept up for a few seconds, i kept from screaming, but breathed and grasped down on the table, trying not to squirm as best I could. i lost some visual awareness, but Melanie told me that i was doing good, and it wouldn’t be much longer. Then, a few seconds later, the pain rapidly subsided, to be replaced with a sharp tenderness.
Once in the 1970s, a communist Japanese Red Army terrorist who took a contract job to perform acts of terrorism in Israel. He was caught and sent to an Israeli prison. While inside, he learned about Judaism and decided to convert. The prison authorities were not keen on seeing a murderous, foreign terrorist convert to their faith and decided not to help him in his religious conversion. He took it upon himself to do what he could to convert, and as part of this effort, HE CIRCUMCISED HIMSELF IN PRISON WITH HIS TEETH. How this was possible, i cannot answer, but it is a matter of factual record. As it was, if circumcision hurt anything like getting a P.A., and i imagine it hurts worse, how this inhumanly motivated individual managed to take such a task upon himself is quite a bit beyond me after this experience.
Afterwards, i got plenty of kudos from Mistress, which of course, even in my semi-stuporous state, was like divinity to my ears. That made it all worthwhile. My dick was in such a state as i had never seen it. Not just limp, but hurt, it was shrunk and livid and angry. There was blood, that was the first thing i noted, a rather copious amount actually, and that spooked me. i took a look at it, as did Mistress. God, it was weird looking indeed! i wasn’t quite sure what to expect going in, and now that i was looking at it, damn, was it ever strange.
Blood was still coming out the ureter, would the rest of that day, in amounts that i wouldn’t under any circumstances have been comfortable with ever coming out of my cock. This wasn’t blood diluted in urine, as from a renal injury, but viscous, oxygenated, deep red whole blood, coming out the head of my penis. But the piercing looked cool. It looked real cool, and not quite at all what i expected. All the fun that could be had with this, i thought, when it heals. At the moment, though, i doubted that “Lefty” was going to be doing much partying for some time.
Mistress Marquesa seemed happy indeed. i’d really never seen Her like this, not quite the deftly commanding presence She was in Her ‘chamber’, but almost in awe, like a child turning over a new toy at Christmas. In a sense, that is very much what it was, except more like an upgrade to a toy and it wasn’t Christmas.
After a few minutes, Melanie asked if i was done looking at it. i said yes after a few minutes. She wrapped it up with gauze after cleaning some of the blood and finally, like a containment piece, put a rubber glove over it before affixing it all on with a rubber band. i got a very weird feeling at that point. Blood leaking from my privates, and a bunch of gauze and rubber containing it, i felt intellectually perhaps this was like when a woman has a period. An uncomfortable parallel at best, and one i hope i don’t soon have to make again. Melanie said that the bleeding should be all stopped within 24 hours, and that it was going to be minor and less than it looked like.
After this, Melanie explained all the procedures for caring for the new piercing. It should be cleaned twice a day with warm water and Dial or another anti-bacterial soap. She was very specific about the product used and, from my research on care, i knew what was needed, a soap containing Triclosan. She was very, very, very adamant about not ever using hydrogen peroxide or alcohol to clean it. i decided to ask, why i don’t know, what would happen if i did. She said, “You could lose your penis.” HOLY MARY MOTHER OF GOD PRAY FOR US SINNERS! i always laughed at the joke about the Hong Kong Dong, but i could actually lose my cock if i used what many would regard as the natural stuff to clean a puncture wound? She explained yes, that those products kill cells, and that at least, they would cause the piercing to migrate, to grow out, and that didn’t seem to keen to me either. Dial antibacterial soap only, twice a day, rotate the piercing five or six times. Soak it in salt water once a day, even after the healing process is complete. Then she told me something that i more or less knew, but probably sounds strange to you, dear reader, and to most folks. She told me that urine was nothing to worry about and that, after cleaning and rinsing the piercing, i should urinate. Always urinate after, to clean and rinse out the inside of the soap and other stuff. Urine is nearly sterile and is harmless to oneself. She stressed that point as well, to urinate always after cleaning. She then gave me a hard copy of some care guidelines and her card in case of any other questions or trouble. Oh, and please, remember to practice safe sex. i asked her how it would affect performance, and if there might be any loss of sensitivity or anything. She said no, and that in most cases she heard about it tended to heighten sensitivity. No complaints there. 🙂
After getting cleaned up and ‘bandaged’, i pulled my boxers and my Levi’s back up, they had started out a bit tight and i now wished that they were looser, got to my feet, and shambled out from behind the curtain. It wasn’t exactly easy moving around, i didn’t quite go bowlegged, but I must have been at least somewhat noticeable. My head was all flushed and rushed. Mistress and i headed out back onto the Boardwalk.
She seemed to be in a good place. She was happy and proud of me and She said so. That was excellent, nothing could have made me happier than hearing that. She told me that this was the first P.A. She had seen done in three years and that threw me for a loop. A woman like this, with Her power to get as many men as She could ever want, crawling on their knees and enduring all sorts of pain and humiliation for Her amusement, who happens to get turned on by P.A.’s, and this was the first one She’d seen done in three years? There seemed something very basically wrong with that. If you don’t know Her yet, than it’s difficult to describe exactly why, but knowing Her gives a glimpse, that She definitely deserves to see as many guys get their penises skewered for Her as She wants and She has the capability to get them to do it, i’d say from my experience. She explained that She and a slave of Hers planned on him getting one some time back but he got one on his own without letting Her in on it. i guess, as some kind of ‘half-cocked’ surprise, (LOL) and She got ‘shafted’, so to speak (ROFL:)). i hope She beat his ass good for that. But i was indeed glad that i had suffered so to ameliorate that for Her. That i had been the first one She’d seen get this in three years made it all the better.
On the way back to Her car, She explained that She had to get back home, She had another appointment coming up. i was a little sad for that, that we had to cut things off in a few (i’ll avoid that pun), but the Mistress is a busy Woman, Her time is precious and there are many, many would-be slaves out there for Her to subjugate. i decided to head back with Her, i’d get my ride from near there, after getting some more food, and She had a bit of time.
We headed back to Her place. i was still in a zone. She headed up to Her room and after i called my ride, She spent a bit of time going over the copious volume of Internet traffic that concerns Her and i recuperated on the floor at Her feet. All seemed right, cool, excellent.
i had to wait outside, at a street corner, for my ride, for a damned hour! That was messed up. i had to be on my feet so long and i’m sure i kept getting weird looks from the mooks at the gas station at the corner.
After i got home, i decided to check out the ‘damage’ and clean up. i took off the glove and the gauze. The gauze was soaked through with blood, not pretty. Finally, my dick was exposed. Climbing the stairs up to my room wasn’t fun, but at least i was covered. The sight was only a bit prettier than i remember it. Blood was still coming out the head, not flowing, but not stopping either, essentially clotted but not sealed. i found some Triclosan soap and cleaned up. i soaked in salt-water then pissed. i decided it was best to change, my Levi’s weren’t exactly all that comfortable in my state. i got some old, worn, but comfortable sweat pants, got into them and headed downstairs. i had decided to go uncovered at first, i felt air was the best thing at the moment. But after feeling some moisture down below and then realizing the crotch of my pants was starting to soak with blood, i realized i had to keep it bandaged at least for now. Some more gauze and a rubber band stayed on all day.
The first day was the worst. i moved funny, had trouble with stairs and peeing was a real bitch. It kept bleeding and i changed the gauze at least four or five times. Cleaning was trouble too, there was dried blood on the hoop, part in and part out of my penis, and that took some ginger cleaning with a tissue and warm water to take care of. Boy, was i ever tender! At least, because of my birthday the previous day, i got to have steamed lobster that night.
Sleeping was some trouble. i hoped that it would be some time before i had a hard on. The covers were trouble enough.
The next day was a lot better. There was some dried blood inside my dick and on the piercing and jewelry, as well as some solid matter, but that was easily remedied. Moreover, the bleeding had stopped. That day, i was on a plane back to Phoenix. i got up late, not much to do that day. i went down to Santa Monica Place and did some shopping, really uneventful. Barbecued steak for dinner than night, then the plane.
As of today, it has been 13 days, nearly two weeks since i got the piercing. Things improved quickly. The next day, i had to work. That night, when i got back, of all things, the piercing looked pretty cool. i called and mailed Mistress immediately thanking Her and telling Her about it. It looked so weird and so cool!
About four days after, the piercing seemed okay. It moved well enough. The skin seemed, well, still a bit tight on it, but loose enough. It was about that time, a Tuesday night, that i made a mistake.
i had been cleaning and maintaining it rigorously and it didn’t hurt quite so much. i figured that it was okay now and it was time to give it a ‘test run’. The healing time on a PA is four to six weeks, and about twice as much time before the piercing is stable and ‘sealed’, so to speak. i had had mine about five days. i was watching TV and on Mistress’ web site and i got very horny and hot and, as is too often the case, figured i had to do something about it ‘RIGHT NOW!’ So, in my bed, under the covers…
It hurt, it hurt a lot. i could barely keep my head straight, it hurt so bad. It hurt at both holes and down the shaft of my dick, a dull ache with each stroke. i finished the job, of course, once i start something, hell, high water or penis feeling like it’s going to break right down the middle be damned! It wasn’t at all good though, it hurt and I felt guilty. Not only did i do something stupid and dangerous, I had played with myself without Mistress’ permission! Uh oh! i had handled Her property without Her say-so! That was bad. 🙁
i cleaned up rigorously afterwards. It was a few days before i let Her know. i was ashamed. She had been so proud and happy and i had fucked up! At least no harm done, and i did get a ‘feel’ for how it performed, it was quite sensitive indeed! Mistress called me a naughty slut and said that She would deal with me later on this. A bit of relief there, i figured that if She gave me my licks later, then She would not be too angry now and i would pay for my crap in full later. That was good, that was very good.
As of today, it’s been thirteen days, nearly two weeks. i peg the final end of recovery time, the time when i would feel safe taking it out, at about May 16th. Maybe April 15th or 16th before i would really put it through strenuous paces. i noticed something as of late. It hurts a lot less, like, when i get hard. i noticed something else too, there is some thickening, it seems, around the new, pierced hole below the head of my dick, around the hoop, and i surmise that’s the first noticeable sign of the healing process. The healing of any pierce is caused first by an immune response to the foreign object, and then ends up with the forming of epithelial cells around the jewelry, a tube of new outer skin, in essence. >From the look of it, i see a ring of what looks like that from the outside around the hoop, and i surmise that this means that the skin is starting to form, that the piercing is starting to ‘take’, so to speak. That is good indeed.
As i said, Mistress asked me to write this for all of the slaves and would-be slaves on the Web out there. i will be keeping up with this in future installments, letting everyone know how it goes . The big thing though, that i really feel and must be expressed, is that i never thought i would get a steel ring through the head of my cock. Mistress Marquesa thought that i would and She was right. She’s always right. If anything, where i’ve come, and how i am now, i can only thank Her for it all, for taking me into servitude to Her and allowing me to serve and please Her like this. Thank You Mistress.
slave tommyboy
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